


Middle of Fucking Nowhere

by goalielove43



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Bisexuality, Coming In Pants, Hand Jobs, Hockey, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, NAHL, NM Ice Wolves, Pseudo-Exhibitionism, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Stress Relief, Voyeurism, away game, in the closet, mindfulness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 08:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goalielove43/pseuds/goalielove43
Summary: Drew shifted in his seat, leaning more toward the window and away from Jackson. He didn't mind busses so much as he didn't like the long straight roads that seemed to exist in every direction coming and going to Albuquerque. Hamilton's roads weren't miles and miles of straight nothing like this. Then again, Hamilton was nothing like Albuquerque in any way.





	Middle of Fucking Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober - Oct 2 - Voyeurism  
Not gonna lie, went to the game and holy shit hockey is so damn good in person! I enjoy it even more there than watching clips and reading books involving it. Take me fuckin' adrenaline high land ASAP! I may be hooked. This may not be the only thing I do. I always end up writing fic about the things I love and now I love this, so here we are.  
Warning: may be super cliche... -wince- alas, be warned
> 
> Not sure if this is still a thing... but this is fictional and doesn't hold any truth about the guys in here. It's for funsies.
> 
> (Totally changed usernames for this fic just so we know)

Drew shifted in his seat, leaning more toward the window and away from Jackson. He didn't mind busses so much as he didn't like the long straight roads that seemed to exist in every direction coming and going to Albuquerque. Hamilton's roads weren't miles and miles of straight nothing like this. Then again, Hamilton was nothing like Albuquerque in any way. There was green back home and here what passed for green - at least according to the locals it was a _good_ year - would have been horrifying to him most of his life. The air was thin and dry in Albuquerque whereas he was used to directly the opposite. It made everything more difficult: playing, breathing, hell existing if he were being honest. Even his damn hair was doing strange things out here.

Now, on the road back from their first set of games, he found it slightly hard to believe he was almost thankful for coming back to this place. Granted, they were still a few hours out, but home - even a new one - was still home. Gazing out at the white stripes lining the center of the road, he let himself go unfocused, hazy in the face of even more time on this bus. His ass was sore from the seat and the rest of him was sore from the game. He could feel the pressure of a headache coming on and to make it worse, the never ending stress of losing yet another game as they struggled toward standing up as a new team left him feeling worn around the edges. Sure, he understood the truth of it. They had time, this was their first year as a team and definitely their first year together. Few of them had known one another prior to showing up here and they had no older guys to fall back on, no steady already-grown team to help them find their footing. It made sense on a logical level that it would take time, that this was their growing year. On the other hand, he was one of the Assistant Captains and that made it hard not to feel like the weight of every loss and every victory stood on his shoulders. Sure, he shared that space with three others, but still... it was hard.

Rubbing his hand over his thigh, hitting a sore spot and really pushing into it, he took in a deep breath and forced himself out of the rut of thinking too hard on things he couldn't change. Their score was the past. The next game was their future. But he had to be careful there as well. Too much focus on things too far away and he would lose sight of the here and now. It was a warning his old coach had given him only a few days before in an email that had left him struggling to blink back the salt stinging his eyes and one he heeded now, removing his mind from things too far ahead or behind to matter at the moment. In this moment, he was trapped in a bus on a straight-as-shit road in the middle of god only knew where New Mexico. His left ankle throbbed dully, but nothing he wasn't used to. He pressed harder at his thigh, slowly working the kink out of the muscle. He took a deep breath and smelled Jackson's spray on deodorant before he was hit with the distinct funk of too many people in one space who had all been working hard for their living. 

Settling on breathing a bit less deeply, he continued to take stock of his body and surroundings. Jackson was on his phone and somewhere behind him Shamil was clearly trying to teach Griffin a few dirty words in Russian. It didn't appear to be going well. Drew resisted snorting at it and focused himself inward a bit more. There was a familiar ache low in his abdomen and the instant he focused on it, the slow tingle of arousal burned across his thighs, spreading out from his core. He let it simmer, allowing this to steal his focus and hold his attention for as long as he needed it to.

He leaned a bit more heavily against the window and resisted rocking his hips to further the sensation of his cock starting to swell in his basketball shorts. It would be obvious, but he wasn't all that worried about it given... well, given certain things he was making wild leaps of assumptions about regarding Jackson, really. He had no proof and it was probably shitty of him to just assume Jackson played at least a little bit for the same team he did. The thought simmered in his mind and his lips quirked in a tiny smile at the pun. _Same team_. They were, after all, on the same damn team. Just... maybe in more ways than one. 

He let his elbow slide along the window's tiny ledge and glanced at Jackson from the corner of his eye. He was entirely focused on his phone, fingers tapping rapidly at the screen as he played his game. A deeper look revealed a game he also played and Drew found a certain affection in that, too, a shared interest in video games making him feel a little more at home and slightly less lost in this new world he'd ventured out into. 

Letting his gaze move away from the game, he gave in just a little bit to an aching urge that had been laying under the surface for weeks now, and let himself just admire Jackson's body. His thighs, his abs and the way his far too tight t-shirt gave away all the goods there. Not that he hadn't had the chance to see him shirtless several times now, more that he had forced himself to look away far too soon every single time. Some part of him knew it would eventually come out that he was bi, but the other part of him understood the... call it _complications_ that could cause. As much of a relief as it would be to just get it out there and say it, it was also one of the things he was playing very close to the chest. 

In theory, it would be easy to hide it. He'd never been with a guy, hadn't even kissed one. He'd dated pretty hot girls back in high school, though nothing had been serious and it had all been far too easy to break off when he'd moved out here. He'd never publically said or posted a thing about it, but he also knew if someone cracked any of his porn site passwords or took a single peek at his search history he would be outed in a red hot second. At least half of his saved videos were either two guys and a girl or two dudes. Of course, he had the usual array of porn one expected from a guy his age, too. But he was smart enough to know that wouldn't save him from the judgement reserved especially for athletes who weren't up front about their preferences. He'd heard all the comments in high school and while he hadn't heard any from his teammates here, he was certain it was more of a matter of _yet_ than it just not happening at all.

And yet... he couldn't drag his eyes off Jackson, even knowing all that was at stake, he just couldn't do it right then. Maybe it'd been too long since he'd had the alone time he truly wanted or maybe it was just that he was bored and utterly beyond horned up, but all he could think about was touching him, making him as horny as he was, kissing him while they touched each other's dicks. 

He shivered, the action completely unplanned, and he ripped his gaze away from Jackson, heart beating wildly in his chest. He was being stupid. Risky and stupid. 

He took in a hitching breath and curled his fingers down against his thigh, pressing harder on purpose, hoping the sore muscle might help him focus _elsewhere_. He tensed his muscles, trying to force blood flow away from his cock. He'd read somewhere that might help and right now he was desperate enough to try all the stupid teenage boy tricks in the book. Well... except the one where you just whipped it out and jacked off to get rid of it, regardless of location. This wasn't middle school science class and a _really_ dumb mistake anymore. Sometimes he regretted how fucking stupid he'd been back then, but then again, he had just been a kid. Kids were all dumb until they started being adult-dumb instead. Humans, in general, did dumb shit and he always had to remember that when judging himself.

Drew reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping against hope that he could actually calm down. This had been a teenage boy level mistake, not an adult mistake. His index finger tapped lightly against the metal side of the bus just beneath the window, barely making a sound but tapping quickly with his nerves. 

Jackson's hand landed on his thigh, warm and solid and _so close_ to his fucking junk. It took everything Drew had not to jerk his hips at the touch, not to beg pitifully for relief he'd honesty only ever gotten once in his life. His cock throbbed and he marveled for a moment at how the fuck he'd managed to get hornier from being put basically on the damn spot.

He let his hand drift down, settling on the seat beside him and stared at Jackson's hand, wondering what in all the seven hells it was doing there. Jackson's thumb rubbed lightly along the tense line of Drew's tight muscle and he couldn't help how he tensed even further, how he barely quelled the way his hips wanted to arch. Damp warmth rolled down his shaft and he thanked everything in the world he was wearing his black basketball shorts and not the light blue ones he'd also packed.

His phone vibrated on the seat beside him and he almost jerked right out of his skin at the feeling of it. Wincing, he picked it up and unlocked it, tapping his message app and blinking at Jackson's name and the start of the text beneath it, clearly reading words he'd never expected to see. _Either tell me to fuck off or tell me I'm not-_

Swallowing, Drew clicked on the text and everything in him heated at least a couple degrees as he read the reality of the text. _Either tell me to fuck off or tell me I'm not imagining things. Is this something you'd want?_

His heart pounded as he tried to decide what to do. Jackson hadn't seemed one to jerk him around, to lie to catch him in his hidden truths. On the other hand, he'd been wrong about someone's character before. But... this was his co-assistant captain. This was a man he either had to know he could trust or know he _couldn't_ and he supposed the same was true in reverse. Jackson had to know he could trust him just as much.

He thumbed out his reply and hit send before he could overthink it. _I want it._ It wasn't skirting the issue and it damn well wasn't fucking around. Except... it kind of was. He bit his lip to hide his smile at that, too and then bit it harder as Jackson's hand moved to cover his straining erection, squeezing through the material of his shorts. Drew's hips arched and he rested his head back against the window so he didn't let it fall back and let himself think he was allowed to do something dumb like moan so everyone knew what was happening.

He braced his feet and slowly rocked his hips, making sure the movement didn't give them away and stared down at Jackson's hand on his cock as he slowly jerked him through his clothing. Drew felt himself growing incredibly aroused so much faster than he could have ever thought possible, toes curling in his tennis shoes, thighs straining as he arched up and stayed there, heart pounding. It felt _incredible_ being touched like this. Right here, in the fucking bus, right where he wasn't allowed to be doing this, right out in the open, all his secrets tumbling out of their bench seat. It felt like freedom as much as it felt like panic. 

He dropped his phone to the seat and slid his hand onto Jackson's thigh, chancing looking at him, finding glittering brown eyes staring back at him, pupils blown in just as much arousal as he was certain his were. He crept his hand closer to the bulge he knew was hidden behind Jackson's phone from his angle and hesitated, waiting on the go ahead. At the slight bob of Jackson's head, he slid his hand the rest of the way over, rubbing along the more-contained strain of Jackson's erection, trapped behind both basketball shorts and his leggings. But, god, he was ever so fucking hard.

Drew groped at it, rubbing and palming it and squeezing the head when he found it and pushing his thumb along the slit, shivering at finally touching another guy like this. His own cock throbbed, his balls tight and his mind a haze of pure desire. 

Jackson's hand ran down his thigh and then his fingertips were slipping up the leg of Drew's basketball shorts, urging them up one leg until his hand sneaked fully in and grasped Drew's cock completely, skin-to-skin and sinfully good. Drew's hips jerked and he had to mask the movement as him getting comfortable in his seat again, his belly quivering at the way Jackson immediately began to stroke him. He wasn't going to last. Honestly, he wasn't sure he would be lasting even if it wasn't his first time doing this. He was so pent up it was insane. 

Sliding his fingers up to Jackson's waistband, he pushed under both layers and slid down until he got ahold of his prick, grasping it and just reveling in holding another man's cock for a moment. His thumb slid up, over the slit, and then around foreskin he wasn't used to, exploring the sensation of it against his skin before starting to mirror Jackson's strokes with his own. 

Jackson's hips rocked upward and remained there, canted into his touch as he stroked faster, taking all his desperation out on his teammate instead of on his own cock. Everything in him longed to lean over and kiss him, to push his hand into his hair and hold on until he'd explored his mouth as completely as he was exploring his cock. He shifted, moved so that he could lean his head on the seat instead, could let Jackson see him when he lost it - because he was going to, and soon. He paused halfway through his movement, gaze stuck on the seat behind them and Josh's _very_ erect cock, completely sticking out of his jeans for the world to see. His heart skipped half a beat, eyes jerking up to Josh's face and the guilty caught look on his face. 

He managed a tiny huff of amusement, a swallowed up laugh as he just arched an eyebrow at Josh and then settled, ducking his head enough he couldn't be seen anymore and catching Jackson's gaze, pointing toward the back of their seat with his free hand and mouthing out, "_Josh_" before making a wanking motion with his hand, belatedly realizing he was making the same motion with both hands and making Jackson's face do the most amazing things in the process.

Jerking the warm cock in his hand faster, he received the same treatment and the pair of them set up actually aiming for orgasm. Jackson set his phone down and pulled the material of his leggings back enough to reveal the tip of his shaft, hips arching and straining, and Drew jacked him faster, trying not to pant with how horny he was even as Jackson completely froze, lips parted, eyelids half hooded in bliss, and then trembled as he started to throb in his hand, thick cum making little spurts across his abdomen and Drew's fingers. 

Just the action of making another man shoot his load made Drew lose his own, his hips giving a frantic final jerk before he was shooting off right in his basketball shorts, Jackson starting to stroke him through it the instant he began losing it.

The pair of them slowly deflated, relaxing in their seats and it was only because Drew was listening for it that he heard the hitch in Josh's breath as he presumably painted his own fist white. It made him wonder if they'd actually been caught or if Josh just happened to be coincidentally horny as fuck. 

He leaned up and peered across the aisle, finding Riley still out cold, flopped across the entire seat. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and slowly extracted his hand from Jackson's pants, leaning down and grabbing a napkin from the bag of fries they'd picked up a few hours earlier at McDonald's. He wiped his hand off and offered a clean one to Jackson before working on his own shorts, wincing slightly at the scratchy paper against his sensitive length. 

Balling the napkin up, he tossed it in the bag and picked his phone back up, opening it again and texting Jackson. _A+ 10/10_

He watched Jackson's face as he checked his texts and saw the way he ducked his head to hide the huge grin and the slightly shy way he peered at him from under the fringe of his hair. God he wanted to kiss this man. 

Easing himself back in the seat, he decided he would. _Later_. Because later was definitely going to be a thing if he had anything to say about it. Even if this was just friendly fucking, there was no way in hell he was wasting the chance to experience it with someone like Jackson.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow apologies that a last sentence didn't say what I wanted it to at first. Talk about typing one thing and meaning another! It's fixed now!


End file.
